“Okay, you two. Move on. Nothing to see here.”
Jack said, “What happened?”
“Looks like a heart attack.” He waved them off. “Come on, now. Get going. Clear the area. Haven’t you two seen enough dead bodies this week?”
That startled Jack. It hadn’t occurred to him. Come to think of it, he and Weezy had seen two dead people in less than forty-eight hours.
Wow.
As they were wheeling away he glanced back just as the first-aiders were rol ing Mr. Sumter onto his side to remove the plastic board from under him.
His shirt had ridden up, revealing a symbol scarred into his back.
The seal of the Ancient Septimus Fraternal Order.
Two dead men … both Lodgers. But they couldn’t possibly be connected.
Could they?
2
Jack led the way to Professor Nakamura’s place.
He lived on Emerson Lane, home to Johnson’s biggest houses, and the only
street in town that ended in a cul-de-sac. The so-cal ed New Town used to be Eppinger’s sod farm, and so it had no native trees. Any oaks and maples in
sight had been trucked in and planted by the homeowners. A cornfield
stretched to the north, the leaves on the green stalks waving gently in the
breeze. To the south lay an orchard, its trees sagging with fruit.
The professor answered the door and welcomed them in. A chubby little man
with a round face, gold-rimmed glasses, short black hair graying at the temples, he led them to a library. Al sorts of stone heads and statuettes vied for
space with the books crammed on the shelves. A big window overlooked a sand garden in his backyard. Three big lava stones of varying sizes had been
set at odd intervals, and the sand had been raked into curving patterns around them. Jack liked the effect. Very peaceful.
“Now, what have you brought me?” the professor said in a soft, accented voice
as he seated himself behind a mahogany desk. Jack recognized it as
mahogany because Mr. Rosen had been teaching him about the different kinds
of wood that went into the old furniture in his store. “Mister Rosen says I wil find it very interesting.”
Weezy handed Jack the cube. He placed it on the desk blotter and opened it. The professor stared at the pyramid for a moment, then ran his hands over its
surface. He removed a magnifying glass from a drawer and gave it a
quick once-over.
“You found this in the woods?” He spoke without looking up.
“Yes.” Weezy glanced at Jack. “We dug it out of something that might be a burial
mound.”
He grunted and continued his examination. “Real y. And you think it is … what?
Some sort of ancient artifact?”
“We don’t know,” Jack said. “That’s why we brought it to you.” Professor Nakamura grunted again, then put down the pyramid, took off his
glasses, and looked at them. His lips were pursed like he’d just bitten into a lemon.
“Are you trying to hoax me?”
The question took Jack by surprise. “Hoax? No way! We real y dug that up
and—”
“If that is true, then someone is hoaxing you.”
“Impossible!” Weezy said. She looked majorly upset. “Nobody knew where we’d
be digging, not even us!”
The professor raised a hand and smiled. “No-no. Not you purposely. Anyone.
Hoaxers like to find a mound—burial or otherwise—and plant phony
artifacts in them, then wait until they’re found.”
“But—”
“A tablet with Phoenician writing ‘discovered’ in Grave Creek mound in West
